Yuri and the Wolf
by Kataphract
Summary: Retired mercenary Yuri Chekov sets off on a routine escort mission with Crazy Wolfgang and co. But what will they find on the treacherous roads of the Capital Wasteland? Rated T, possible M rating later.
1. Chapter 1

"One-twenty-three, one- twenty-four, one-twenty-five….how much further 'till Fort Constantine? I'm sick of counting my beads of sweat for entertainment. And why the hell are we even going there? Shouldn't we let other people-"

"Tara, Tara, Tara, you don't understand. Fort Constantine has something of great value, something which the Brotherhood of Steel is willing to pay great money for. And they approached our caravan and I because we know how to find things, junk or otherwise," retorted Crazy Wolfgang.

Tara huffed, but returned to her duty of guarding the caravan. She had been in the caravan business for twelve years, long enough to know a lucrative opportunity from a wild goose chase. This, in her mind, was the latter.

"_Let's just hope there's nobody else who received the same task," _thought Wolfgang.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tara thought she saw a glint of sunlight refracting off of polished metal.

"Wolfie, look sharp," she whispered, "We might have company."

Crazy Wolfgang took note, and signaled for his other two caravan guards to do the same. The group continued to meander along the old, broken highway, until, without warning, three Enclave soldiers presented themselves from behind a defunct car.

"Don't move!" a short, Enclave officer holding a plasma pistol shouted, trying to seem intimidating, "By order of the Wasteland Protection and Rehabilitation act, Enclave forces are authorized to take any wasteland caravans into custody immediately. Surrender your Brahmin, weapons, and all supplies or you will face immediate imprisonment."

"Sounds more like we're being mugged," Tara muttered.

"What did you say, ingrate?" the officer yelled back, beginning to approach the caravan.

"Whoa, easy there, officer, we mean no harm! We're just taking this caravan to-"

Wolfgang then felt a swift, metallic uppercut to his jaw, and was knocked to the ground."Now, unless you want further violence, it'd be in your best interest to surrender your caravan immediately," the soldier monotonously said.

Wolfgang immediately got up from the ground, covertly pulling a grenade out of his pocket."Alright, we'll give you everything we have, just don't hurt us, alright?"

Wolfgang then proceeded to turn around, pretending to unhook the supplies off of the Brahmin. He began fiddling with some supplies until, suddenly, he pretended to fumble with something and dropped it. That 'it' was a live grenade, and it began rolling towards the Enclave trio. "Oops, let me get that," Wolfgang quipped.

"Yeah- Wait, grenade! Get out of the-"

A large explosion rocked the ground just feet in front of the caravan. The lead officer was knocked back, apparently devoid of an arm. The other two soldiers were also knocked to the ground, but began to get up mere seconds after the explosion, gripping their weapons.

"You son of a bitch, you just couldn't quietly cooperate, could you? Jackson, kill them. They aren't worth sparing any longer," the taller Enclave soldier said.

The other soldier began to approach them, motioning them to turn around. Wolfgang and his crew did so.

"Got any other tricks up your sleeve, Wolfgang?" Tara whispered.

"Dumb luck, hopefully, but nothing planned. It's been a pleasure knowing you, Tara."

"Yeah, same to you, Wolfie."

The soldier began to aim down his sights, when a loud gunshot shattered the silence. A sniper round pierced the helmet of the soldier, and sent the soldier face first to the ground.

"Oh, shit!" yelled the taller Enclave soldier, aiming down his sights towards Wolfgang.

Too late. Another shot rang out and the soldier suffered the same fate as his companion. All three soldiers appeared to be dead, and Wolfgang rose from his previous position. After a long moment of silence, Ted, one of the other caravan guards, finally broke the stillness."Alright, I wanna know what the hell just happened, man!"

"Apparently somebody either loves us, or wants the same thing those 'Clavies did," responded Wolfgang.

"On the contrary," said the crew's savior, "I actually hate those pompous assholes from the Enclave who think they own every living thing that moves."

Wolfgang spun around, facing the new stranger. He was tall, with ragged blond hair and a scruffy chin beard. In his hands he held a sniper rifle, and carried ammo and a sidearm on his belt."Alright, stranger, first of all, thank you. I'd be happy to pay you in whatever supplies we can spare. Secondly, who are you and what the hell are you doing out here?" Wolfgang said.

"The name's Sam Warrick. I've been living off the land for as long as I can remember. And you are very lucky that I came along, 'cause those 'Clavies weren't gonna spare you, that's for damn sure. As for payment, I'd be glad to take some stimpaks off your hands," Sam responded. Wolfgang nodded, reaching into his pack, giving Sam a handful of stimpaks. Sam approached Tara, still sitting on the ground, and extended a hand to her.

"And what is a fine lady like you doing in the company of a trading caravan?"

Tara blushed, and grabbed Sam's hand, pulling her up.

"Now, if I might ask, where are you headed? You've certainly deviated a bit from the main route of the caravans." Sam said, lighting up a cigarette.

"We're on a job from the Brotherhood, supposed to recover a set of codes or some such. Why, you feel like tagging along?" Wolfgang responded.

Sam thought this over for a moment before responding. "If you're willing to give me a cut of the cash, then I'm your man."

"Great, just give us a few minutes to scavenge some gear from the bodies. You're welcome to anything you find, too."

So they took about five minutes, salvaging any spare weapons and ammo they could carry. Wolfgang took the plasma rifle, while Tara and Ted scavenged the laser rifle and plasma pistol, respectively. After everyone was ready, the crew headed out to their objective, about two miles away. After a long few minutes of awkwardness, Tara spoke up.

"So, what's it like?"

Sam looked puzzled. "Whaddya mean, 'it?'

"Living off the wasteland, not knowing where you're next meal's gonna come from, that kinda thing?"

"Ah, that. I had to adjust to many things at first but I've gradually adapted to most of the… inconveniences of the wasteland. When I was forced out here about 20 years ago, I figured that I couldn't change anything about my environment or what's in it," Sam recalled "so I was forced to change myself. I read somewhere that animals have a similar method of changing, they call it adaptive radiation. Animals will sometimes change their behavior and even their appearance over many generations to counter the dangers of their environment. I figure a good survivalist is no different."

Tara was intrigued by this logic. Never before had she met someone so intelligent in the wasteland, someone who actually understands what it takes to survive.

"So what happens when you can't adapt?" Ted asked curiously.

"Same thing that happens to the weaker animals of the food chain," Sam replied "I become something, or someone, else's food."

This brought a long silence on the crew as they neared the vicinity of Fort Constantine. Wolfgang gripped his new rifle tightly, wary of another attack, which, in his mind, was imminent. Tara was still expressively swooning over Sam, stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Sam sauntered along the road, acting completely oblivious to the dangers of Fort Constantine which lie ahead. In his mind, robots, like humans, could be easily manipulated; they only required different types of exploitation. Ted and Max were guarding the rear, keeping a vigilant eye out for any unexplained movement.

"Hey, I think that's it," Cried Tara, pointing to a large, gated perimeter about 300 yards in front of them.

"Then let's not waste any time. Ted, cover Max while he gets that gate open. Warrick, climb onto that outcropping and cover us if necessary. Tara, you're with me. Let's get in and out, lady and gentlemen, I'd like to be back in Canterbury sometime this century," ordered Wolfgang, taking the Brahmin to a nearby electrical line to tie her up.

Everyone got into position as Ted and Max began to approach the gate, ever wary of enemies. To their relief, there was no sign of hostiles within the confines of the fort.

"Alright, Max, you got this?" Ted asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just give me a second," Max hurriedly retorted.

About thirty seconds passed and the lockpicking expert was still at work. Everyone held position, with Tara and Wolfgang and flanking either side of a large rock just yards away from the gate.

"Damnit, Max, what's taking so long?" Wolfgang yelled.

"Almost… got it." Max called out, "Alright everyone, let's get inside before-"

The soft whirr of a minigun interrupted Max, coming from a now-visible sentry bot.

"Aw, shit! Get out –" Sam was too late.

The bullets tore through Max, leaving his body with many holes. He slumped to the ground. Ted appeared to be hit, but fled behind the cover of a nearby rock.

"You alright, Ted?" Tara called out.

"Yeah, it's just a flesh wound, I think," Ted yelled back, wincing in pain.

Suddenly, a loud crack emanated through the whirr of the minigun. Sam had lodged a bullet in the cranial unit of the sentry bot.

"ERROR," the sentry bot called in its monotonous voice," VISUAL OBSERVATION IMPAIRED, CANNOT CONTINUE SURVEILLANCE MISSION."

With that, the sentry bot began to move away, fleeing into the interior of the fort.

"Anyone else hurt?" Tara called out.

"I might need some Med-X, and a stimpak," Ted responded.

Tara ran over to Ted, examining the wound on his arm.

"You puss, one of the bullets just grazed your arm. You'll be fine, just keep it covered up, and you shouldn't need to waste our stimpaks." Tara scowled.

"Hey, what's your problem? I'm injured, here!"

Tara ignored Ted, instead walking over to Max. She stood over his body, crouching down to close his eyelids. Tara then did something she hadn't done since childhood: she began to cry. She had known Max ever since she came onto Wolfgang's crew, and he'd always been kind to Tara.

Wolfgang returned from the Brahmin with three shovels and a blanket.

"We should go ahead and bury Max, I'd hate to go on knowing we left his body for the roaches," Wolfgang said.

"Alright," Sam called, climbing down from his perch, "but let's make it quick, I didn't tag along to bury dead people."

Tara shot him a deathly scowl, and shouldered past him, grabbing a shovel from the Brahmin.

Wolfgang, Tara, and Sam dug for about 30 minutes until the grave was finished. They carried his mauled body into the grave, setting the blanket over his body.

"Max, you were one of the best hackers in the Capital Wasteland. But more importantly, you were a decent guy. Rest In peace, buddy." Wolfgang eulogized.

With that, the trio started to shovel the dirt back into the grave. Once finished, they met back at the gate to discuss their next move.

"Damn," Ted winced "I thought the Brotherhood said this place was empty!"

"Bastards probably lied to you. It doesn't matter now, we have to get in there and get those codes. Ted, go get a laser rifle and some ammo from the Brahmin. Everyone else, on me. Let's see if we can't find a safer route into this place," Sam ordered.

Ted ran over to the Brahmin, grabbed his weapon, and returned to the small house where the rest of the team was grouped.

"Alright, here's how it's going to work, Tara, you still have those grenades from the dead 'Clavies? Tara nodded, reached into her pocket and handed two of them to Sam. "Good, now listen up. On my count, I'm gonna toss one of these grenades into the house. It should disable anything in there, leaving us enough time to find some clues or something. Everyone ready?" The team nodded.

"Alright then, on my count. One… Two… Three!"

Sam twisted a grenade, opened the door, lobbed it inside, then quickly shut the door. The grenade emitted a large static noise, resulting in a large crash from inside. Sam crept through the door, checking room to room, until he finally found a safe in the basement labeled "TOP SECRET, UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT EYES ONLY."

"Alright, we're all clear, Wolfgang. I'm in the basement; I found something you might want to see," Sam shouted.

The other three entered the house and soon found him.

"Well, look what we have here," Wolfgang said quietly, "If I were a set of nuclear launch codes, this is most definitely where I would hide." Wolfgang proceeded to pull out a stethoscope and some bobby pins. He began fiddling with the locking mechanism of the safe, hoping that this pre-war technology was as faulty as most. After five minutes of wandering, the crew began to explore the house to find some food. They found a plethora of water (mostly irradiated), booze, and food. They took it down to the basement, beginning to eat and drink ravenously.

"Wolfie, come on, take a break for just a second, we-" Tara was interrupted.

"Got it!" Wolfgang exclaimed, "Wasn't that bad for a pre-war safe, though Max could've cracked it in half the time. Now, let's have a look inside this bad boy."

Wolfgang opened it, peering inside the dark, fresh-smelling safe.

"Alright, so far we have… a stealth boy, a scoped .44, and… hold on…" he pulled out a folder labeled "HIGHLY CLASSIFIED: OFFICIAL EYES ONLY."

"I think we might have a winner!"

"Damnit, Wolfgang, get on with it already!" Sam huffed.

"Alright, alright, let's just see what's in this thing." Wolfgang responded, opening the folder. Inside were several random jumbles of letters and numbers, each having a different set of geographical coordinates above it. Ted went over to have a look at the newfound treasure.

"Alright, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say these are our launch codes," Ted said.

"I think you're right, Ted, now let's get back to Canterbury before nightfall. Today's Thursday, and Joe Porter cooks up a delicious Mole Rat Stew on Thursdays. "

The team ascended the stairs, and then waited at the door. Sam carefully opened it, scanning the vicinity for any other hostiles. He found none, and signaled the ok. They ran back through the gate all the way to Nessie, the Brahmin, who was surprisingly unfazed. Wolfgang untied her, then made sure all of their supplies were still present and intact. Once he was done, the crew set out for Canterbury.

"Good work, everyone. We'll get back to Canterbury around ten tonight, barring any encounters with our friends in the Enclave, of course, then head to the Citadel in D.C. First round of drinks is on me tonight," Wolfgang said with a noticeable hint of fatigue. Everyone (minus Sam, of course) was tired from the long journey up, and they were glad to be headed home.

**Well, that concludes the first chapter. Love the first chapter? Hate it with a fiery passion? Or just indifferent? Well shoot a review my way so I know what to do differently! **

**You may have also noticed a few discrepancies in my story in relation to the game itself. First of all, Crazy Wolfgang, along with other traders, have multiple mercenary guards to assist them. Also, Sam Warrick is friendly (at least for now) and deeply philosophical. Tara and Ted have no affiliation with the Tara and Ted Strayer, who were both involved in You Gotta Shoot 'Em in the Head!, a quest in Fallout 3. Now that that's all cleared up, I'm looking forward to writing another solid chapter. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First off, I sincerely apologize to anyone I disappointed by waiting this long. Between school and athletics, it's really easy to forget about this sort of thing. However, you must understand, I have very little free time to do much of anything besides homework, so it's amazing that I even got this chapter in. Anyway, you're probably sick of reading me ramble on, so I'll stop typing and let you get on to reading this chapter. Also, kudos to CorntheSaga for pointing out a mistake I made in this chapter.**

Yuri Chekov was as tired as he'd been in a long time. Beads of sweat crested his furrowed brow as he oversaw the AntAgonizer and the Mechanist go through their daily taunting ritual. He would've shot them both at first glance, but Joe Porter had a policy against 'inciting bloodshed' in the community. '_Bullshit,' _he thought, '_If he really_ _wanted to stop whatever violence may arise he'd have let me lodge a bullet in their heads already.' _

Glancing at his pre-war wristwatch, Yuri noticed that the Caravan was running later than usual. He checked his ammo belt and only two clips remained for his pair of .44 magnums. If the caravan didn't arrive soon, they'd have trouble fending off a raider assault of any significance. And if, God forbid, Super Mutants ever decided to attack, Canterbury would be in serious peril.

'_At least we'd have these wackos on our side,' _Yuri thought, chuckling to himself as the ants and robots began to attack each other. Yawning, he averted his gaze and was about to go back to cleaning the tables at Porter's Diner. Suddenly, a group of ants began to harass a visitor from Rivet City. The man obviously had no prior combat experience, for his only defense was to flail his arms in panic. In one fluid motion, Yuri drew his pistols and fired four shots, each killing their intended targets with deadly accuracy. As Yuri approached the almost-victim of the ants, he fled to the cover of a nearby building. Indignant, Yuri turned towards the AntAgonizer, now devoid of her precious ant followers. Holding his right-hand magnum out, Yuri strode toward the clumsy 'superhero,' who was obviously terrified of what the grizzled mercenary may do to her. Reaching arm's length, Yuri grabbed the AntAgonizer by the throat, pinning her against the wall, his other hand gripping the magnum against her temple.

"You see this gun? Her name's Rosaline. She and I have killed a fuckload of psychos in my day, idiots much worse than you. Do you honestly think your death is gonna weigh too heavy on my conscience?"

'_No… Rosie… you killed her…and Mary, my fucking daughter, you killed them both, you raider son of a bitch, you murdered them in cold blood, you-'_

The AntAgonizer was frozen in shock. She gulped, slowly shaking her head. Realizing it was just a mental flashback, Yuri snapped back to reality. "Good," Yuri muttered "Now get the fuck out of here. And if I see as much as a piece of ant shit within 50 yards of this town, I'll find you and kill you myself, got it?"

The rogue superhero nodded, sprinting back to her lair without looking back. Yuri turned his attention to the Mechanist, now staring awkwardly at the ground.

"And you," Yuri called out, "If you think you're some kind of hero you're dead wrong. You've stirred up just as much trouble as that ant bitch has. I'll leave you with the same warning I left her: Come within 50 yards of Canterbury and I've got no qualms about ending your life. Got it?" The Mechanist shuffled nervously before hurriedly fleeing, along with his robots. Yuri knew that the Mechanist could have commanded his sentry bot to tear him to shreds, but if there was one thing that Yuri had learned in his experience, it was that fear corrupts common sense. Besides, the Mechanist wasn't exactly the brightest superhero in the Wasteland.

Yuri turned towards the stranger from Rivet City. "Are you alright?"

The man shuffled nervously before replying. "Yes, thank you, I'm fine."

Yuri examined him for a moment, then, with a short nod, continued about his business in the Diner.

'_Damn, how much longer do I have to play the role of the scared-shitless businessman?'_ wondered Adelaide. His grey business suit, along with his curly dark hair, was starting to bear the marks of sweat and dirt, much unbecoming of a man in his position. His suit was a bit large for a man standing at only 5'10," but he managed to make up for it with his bulk. He wore a matching fedora and bore a hidden 10mm pistol strapped to his leg. Adelaide had just arrived in town and was scoping out the area for any sign of a scavving caravan. Once he found any further information, he was to relay it to his employers, who remained anonymous.

Spotting a group of people on the horizon, Adelaide knew he was in luck. Walking towards the caravan, he spotted a scruffy-looking man who he assumed to be Crazy Wolfgang. Behind him were two men and a woman, each of whom looked like grizzled veterans. _'Best not to fuck with them,' _he thought.

Violence was not in Adelaide's job description, though. He was a spy, a gatherer of information, not someone who killed indiscriminately. '_That's what the soldiers are for,' _thought Adelaide as he neared the caravan. He called out to Wolfgang in his refined accent. "Greetings trader! Have you found anything worth bartering for in your travels?"

"Ah, but I'm always ready to barter, good sir. I would say that, but you must understand I'm terribly famished. Tell you what, after I'm done eating we can have a look at my stock. Sound good?" Wolfgang politely responded, eying his new, potential customer.

Adelaide nodded. "Of course, um," he glanced at the sign atop the brahmin's back, "Wolfgang! But might I ask, where have you come from? You and your crew seem exhausted."

"Fort Constantine, up north. We were actually on an assignment to recover something, and now we're spending the night here before heading down south to deliver it. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe there's a bowl of mole rat stew that's just crooning my name."

"Of course," Adelaide said, politely nodding. He had just learned everything he needed to know. Now he just needed to scope out a possible route. After all, 'south' could be just about anywhere from his current location to Point Lookout. Once Wolfgang was out of sight, he hurriedly made his way to the ham radio post in Uncle Roe's house. Opening the door, he shouldered past Uncle Roe, who looked to be in a hurry to welcome his most profitable caravaner back. Sitting down at the small stool, he turned the dial to the proper frequency, making sure it was unoccupied and secure. Adelaide began to relay his new findings to his employers in Morse code.

Yuri looked up from wiping down the bar to see his old friend Crazy Wolfgang saunter in to Canterbury. Wolfie had been gone on caravan missions for about a month now, and Yuri was glad to see him back. Throwing his rag aside, he went out to greet him.

"Well, if it isn't my old brother-in-profit? How've you been, Wolfie?"

"I've been better, I'll tell you that much," Wolfgang quipped, still smiling as always. "How about you, Yuri? I hear Joe Porter's got you workin' your ass off for a room and board. A bit of a step down from being a grizzled, half-Russian mercenary, no?

Yuri shrugged. Had anyone else talked openly about his past to Yuri he would've strangled them on the spot. But Wolfgang was the one who got Yuri into the Merc business in the first place, so he was a bit more courteous to him. "Beats most other jobs out there. At least I don't get shot at."

Wolfgang slapped him on the shoulder. "Well, it's good to see you again, my young apprentice. Get Porter to whip up some stew so we can celebrate a little, alright?"

Yuri nodded then ran in to tell Joe Porter.

After a couple hours, the stew was hot and ready to serve. Though it didn't look extremely appetizing on the surface, it filled the small diner with a strong, hearty scent that would make a strong man hungry.

Yuri and Wolfgang were sitting across from each other in a booth, ravenously devouring their respective bowls of stew. As they finished, Yuri decided to speak up.

"So, where's Max?"

Wolfgang stopped chewing for a moment, quietly responding. "Dead. Damn sentry bot got 'em. Lucky we had Sam over there, or we'd all be dead."

"Damn, Wolfie, I'm sorry. But who the hell is Sam?"

Wolfgang gestured to the tall, long-haired blonde man sitting by Tara at the bar.

"New recruit?" Yuri questioned

"Well, it's an interesting story, to say the least," Wolfgang retorted.

"Well I don't have anywhere to be, so let's hear it."

Wolfgang sighed. "Alright, so we were traveling along the old Route 45 up north, when out of nowhere this 'Clavie patrol stops us and tries to mug us. Well, I was just about to comply when, in all my infinite wisdom, I decided to roll a live fucking grenade right by their head honcho. So he was killed, then the other two got up and were about ready to kill us."

Wolfgang paused for effect, and simply to piss Yuri off.

"And…" Yuri said impatiently.

"And then Sam sniped both of the bastards in the span of about three seconds. Don't know if I've mentioned it, but he's a damn good sharpshooter. Hence, I decided to let him on for a cut of the pay. And that's why he's here, hitting on Tara right now."

Yuri nodded. "So I guess you're down a man, huh?"

"That I am. And that's part of the reason I wanted to talk to you. I can see you're a bit tired of your repetitive manual labor, so I wanted to offer you a spot on the escort team down to the Citadel. It's pretty far, but I'll get you a cut of the pay. So whaddya think, pretty good offer, am I right?"

Yuri was visibly eager. This would be the first time in three years he went back out on the road, and it had been three years too long, in his mind."Just give me some ammo and I'm your man, Wolfie."

Wolfgang smiled. "Good. We'll leave at five in the morning sharp. And one more thing, go say to hi to the rest of the crew, they look up to you, ya know."

Yuri nodded, getting up to do just that. Looking over at Sam, Yuri knew he looked like trouble. However, they'd have to get along if Yuri was ever to get a cut of the pay. And if they didn't it would be a long trip. Yuri was hoping for the former.

**So… please please please review. Don't take me on my word, but I will try my very best to get a chapter in before the end of the month. I will also try to write another chapter to my other fic, The Stranger. Thank you readers, and good night (or day, whichever it is, I can't really tell with all the blinds down).**


	3. Chapter 3

_Yuri gazed upon the gruesome sight that lay before him. The lifeless bodies of his wife and 15-year old daughter, Mary, lie slumped on the floor, a bullet hole in each of their heads. Yuri was in shock, wondering who could possibly have the soullessness to murder two innocents, women much less, in cold blood. 'No,' he whimpered softly, cradling the body of his daughter 'I... I couldn't save you, Mary, I'm sorry. And Rosie...' He fell silent for a few moments. 'Who the hell did this?' he screamed at the top of his lungs. Pausing for a moment, he attempted to regain his composure. 'Whoever you are,' he said aloud 'I hope you know who the hell you're dealing with. And that I will not stop until you suffer the same fate as my loved ones.' _

_'Yuri...' a voice called out from the distance. He turned to face this new intruder, oblivious to where the noise emanated from._

_'Yuri!' the voice echoed louder again. _

"Yuri!"

Yuri snapped awake, his trench knife in hand. Recognizing that the voice was, in fact, Uncle Roe, he quickly sheathed his knife, standing to face him.

"What is it, Roe?"

"Wolfgang says you have an hour to gather your belongings before they head out."

Yuri rubbed his head, realizing that it was only a dream. It had been twelve years since he came home to that sight. For twelve years that all-too-real visage never ceased to haunt him in his dreams. And last night was no different. Every time it seemed hyper realistic, just as Yuri had remembered.

"You alright, Chekov?" Roe asked concernedly.

"Yeah... yes, I'm fine, tell Wolfie I'll be out in an hour."

Roe nodded, promptly leaving Yuri alone in his room.

Yuri walked over to his travel pack that he'd prepared the night before. It had enough food, water, and ammo for a three day's journey, which his would surely be. Peering into the rugged, worn backpack, he saw some old, pre-war rations, bearing the bland titles like 'Cram' and 'Mutfruit.' To Yuri, however, these were his means of survival, his tools to combat starvation and death. He sealed them in airtight knapsacks to make sure they wouldn't spoil for the journey. He checked his ammo, placing a few belts on his bed.

After all of this was done, Yuri walked over to his small, uncomfortable bed, shoving it aside to reveal a large, black safe in the floor. Punching in the code he remembered from childhood, 3113, the safe clicked open, revealing a magnificent set of customized power armor. It was T-51B, one of two known sets in the Capital Wasteland. The exterior was painted black, with jagged orange stripes forming an 'X' around the chest plate. The helmet was painted black as well, but mounted atop of it was the gaping mouth and eyes of a Yao Guai. Yuri took out this armor, taking five minutes to secure it to his body. After this was done, he took the other object from the deep safe, a heavily modified minigun. It, too, was in pristine condition, bearing the glint of freshly polished metal. After suiting up his ammo, pack, and weapons for what was sure to be a long journey, Yuri sauntered out to the caravan party.

"Well, look who's got his old armor back! How's it feeling, Yuri?" asked Ted.

"Still feels a bit stiff, but I've got a few miles to get it ironed out." Yuri responded.

"Well, I'd say if we get in a firefight, you'd be best suited-"Sam was cut off.

"Up front, I know kid. You think I haven't been doing this my whole life?" Yuri responded indignantly. He'd only known Sam for less than a day, but his arrogance and foolishness was already seething in Yuri's mind.

"Hey, no need to get antsy, just trying to help," retorted Sam.

Yuri shrugged it off, knowing that any further conflict would only hurt the mission. As Crazy Wolfgang himself approached the caravan, everyone knew it was time to leave.

"Alright, everyone, let's go over responsibilities again. Tara, you're our medic for the trip. Sam, you're lead scout, Yuri, you're heavy weapons, and Ted, you're explosives. Any questions? Good. Now let's get this rolling, we've got a long couple days ahead of us."

With that, Wolfgang grabbed the reins and began to lead Nessie the Brahmin down the old, rocky path that led to the old highway.

'_Now if this isn't a safe journey, I don't know what is…' _thought Wolfgang.

Adelaide was already awake, rushing to the old shack near the highway junction, the place his employers told him to be at 12:00 sharp. His breaths were short and labored as he had been sprinting for nearly a minute to avoid a late arrival. Nearing his rendezvous point, he spotted a tall, masked man wearing camouflaged battle armor and bearing an extremely rare Grad assault rifle.

'_Been a while since I've seen one of those,' _thought Adelaide, finally slowing to a jog, and eventually a stop, putting his hands on knees to catch his breath.

"Are you Adelaide?" the man inquired, firmly gripping his assault rifle.

"Yes," Adelaide continued breathing outward rapidly, "your people told me to be here, did they not?" Adelaide stated, trying to appear confident.

The guard examined him for a brief moment before responding. "What was the word we told you to remember last night?"

Adelaide felt a short wave of panic rush through him. "Uh… it's…" The guard began to raise his rifle,"Crabtree! It was Crabtree!" yelped Adelaide.

"Very good, then. You may enter," The guard robotically quipped.

Adelaide lifted the cloth, entering the dark, dank shack, lit by only a small gas lantern. He saw three other men, each holding Grads and wearing camo armor and masks like the guard.

"You weren't followed?" one of the masked men said.

"No, I made sure of it," responded Adelaide.

"Good. So you have the ambush point planned out?" another man said.

"Yeah, I've got it all right here on this map, it shows the route from this location to the ambush point, and the suggested positions you should take. I believe this is all you asked of me, no?" said Adelaide impatiently, handing the map to one of the masked men.

"Yes, yes it is. Julius, the guard outside, will give you our agreed payment, fifteen hundred caps. Thank you for your cooperation, Adelaide, we'll be in touch,"

With that, Adelaide eagerly walked out of the shack, anxious to receive his payment. Once outside, Adelaide saw no sign of the guard that once patrolled the front of the shack. Mere seconds after he exited, Adelaide felt a sharp, emanating pain coming from his midsection. He hadn't realized it in his state of shock, but he had just been stabbed through the arch of his aorta, and was now gushing blood from his mouth and from his new wound. After a few seconds, Adelaide closed his eyes and slumped to the ground, his lifeless body now just another ornament of the barren wasteland.

Julius turned from the corpse that lay at his feet."It's been taken care of. When are we moving out, sir?"

"Immediately," Panther said, "I'm not about to waste another moment of time while the package still roams the Capital Wasteland. This scouting report says that their escort is lightly armored, save one power-armored trooper with heavy weapons. Should be easy pickings, boys," Panther looked around to see that everyone was ready, "Let's not waste any more time. Move out!"

**3 hours later…**

"So, what's your story, kid?" asked Yuri, his voice distorted by his power helmet.

"Why the sudden interest?" Sam responded.

"I feel like I may have misjudged you, and I just wanted to know about you. Too much to ask?"

Sam eyed him curiously. "I guess not. I was born out here in the Wasteland, just like anybody else. My parents were killed by raiders when I was 16. I fought back against them, killed half their gang with my dad's old revolver. I was offered a spot in their gang shortly afterward. It was alright, I guess; Evergreen Mills is a place like you wouldn't believe. Beer, food, women; Hell, man, it's fuckin' paradise. But eventually, I got kinda tired of it, I wanted to live a life of my own, without having to assualt caravans and kill innoccent people just to survive. So, on my 23rd birthday, I decided to leave the Mills and make a life for myself. And the rest, as they say, is history."

"So what have you done for the past twenty years or so?" asked Yuri.

"Fighting, killing, living off the Wastes, just doing whatever it takes to survive, man. Not everyone is cut out to be a merc."

"Yeah," Yuri pondered, "I guess not..."

They continued to walk along the barren road until they reached the fork in the old highway.

"Alright, Wolfie, which way?" called Ted.

"Hold on just a sec, I'm not quite sure. This GPS system is faulty as hell," Wolfgang responded.

After a few seconds, the GPS system sprung to life, revealing a large, digital map of the Capital Wasteland.

"Alright, looks like the junction is just up ahead, to the left.. From there we'll need to proceed down the western road, which'll take us past Megaton."

"Megaton, huh? Been a while since we've passed there," said Ted.

"Yeah, I guess it wouldn't hurt to stop in for a while. Moriarty's got some damn good booze, the low-life bastard," Wolfgang responded.

Yuri wasn't listening to their conversation. He and Sam's jobs were to protect the front flank, which was paramount in a place like the Wastes.

As they neared the junction, Yuri heard a small explosion behind their caravan. Raising his fist, Yuri directed the entire crew to look behind them to meet whatever adversary had made it. Seeing nothing, Yuri began to turn around, when, to his horror, he heard the soft whirr of a rocket headed straight for him. The sheer force of the explosion was enough to knock Yuri back twenty feet, rendering him unconscious. Sam also took a good deal of the blow, landing him in a ditch near the road.

"Ambush, take cover!" Wolfgang hollered as bullets began to zoom past them. He kept his head down as their assailants had the major tactical advantage of heavy weapons. The onslaught continued for more than a minute.

'_Whoever these bastards are,' _he thought _'they sure came prepared.'_

Looking over at the other side of the road, Wolfgang witnessed something he wished he hadn't. Ted rose up out of his prone stance, discharging at least seven rounds before being pierced through his helmet with multiple bullets.

"No!" cried Wolfgang. The kid was only 20 years old. He'd had his entire life if front of him, now gone in the blink of an eye. However, Wolfgang had to shrug it off if he were to survive.

"Tara!" Wolfgang yelled over the gunfire, "Where the hell are Sam and Yuri?"

"The rockets got 'em, I don't know!" Tara responded.

Wolfgang was in shock. He was a merchant, not a fighter. As the fire drew to a close, Wolfgang began to face the inevitable reality: he was going to die. He had cheated death too many times to elude it again, so it seemed like a foregone conclusion at this point.

Footsteps. He heard footsteps on the rough pavement. He thought about standing up and making a last stand, but Wolfgang knew it would lead to his, and Tara's, death.

"Get up, both of you!" one of the soldiers said. There were at least five, all wearing black ski masks and bearing strange weapons. They dragged both of them out of the ditch, making them stand up to face them.

"We know you have something we want. A set of codes. Give it to us and we let you live. You don't, we take them from you and both of you die. What'll it be?"

Wolfgang swallowed hard. He always kept the folder in a secret pocket aboard Nessie, who now lay dead about 10 feet behind them. There was no point in resisting now. He knew he was going to die, anway.

"There in the black pouch on the back end of our Brahmin back there."

The masked man signaled for one of his subordinates to retrieve it. The other man did so, giving it to him. He began to look through it, checking to see it was indeed authentic.

"Alright, we got what we came for, bring those two and let's get out of here."

"Panther, sir, if I may, why are we taking prisoners? We've already got a long journey back as it is," said Nikolai meekly.

"Bargaining chips, Nikolai. These two are of great value in Canterbury, perhaps-"Panther was interrupted by the vibration of his satellite phone.

"Hello, Commander. We've secured the package and are heading back to base."

"And you're certain it's all there?" Commander Jabsco asked.

"Without a doubt, sir, this is it. We'll be back in less than a day."

"Then the White Panzers did their job. You've brought good upon Talon Company, Panther. Get back safely."

"Yes, sir," replied Panther with a click of his phone.

**Yes, I did update in less than ten days. You're not dreaming. Don't expect this to always the case though, I've just had a lot more free time than I normally do as of late. As always, I very much appreciate reviews, however good or bad might be. Thank you loyal readers, and good night!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Two updates in two weeks! I'm on a roll!**

Yuri found himself awake, lying on a soft, comfortable bed. He didn't know where he was or how he got there, but there was a pain in his head that was emanating in hard, consistent throbs. Curious as to what caused this pain and, furthermore, where he was, Yuri attempted to arise from his bed and find some answers. As he did so, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he quickly spun around and seized the hand of his supposed enemy with a firm grip.

"Whoa, there," the strange new man said, "I'm a friend!"

"Define 'friend,'" Yuri quipped, his Russian undertone slurred by his new head injury.

"My name is Daniel, I'm a medic with the Regulators. I know you probably don't remember much, you were unconscious for a day or so before we brought you here. But I've been instructed to watch over you for the time being, so if you'd like to get up and walk around, I'd be more than happy to help you."

Yuri recognized Daniel's duster as beloging to the Regulators, an organization he'd worked both for and covertly against many years ago. Letting his hand go free, Yuri stood up, regaining his strength from a day's sleep. Daniel offered to help him down the stairs, but Yuri was too stubborn to let some kid treat him like an elderly man. Nearing the front door, he witnessed a familiar face.

"Sam?" Yuri stated incredulously, "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, Yuri. Apparently a rocket one of those hitmen launched blasted us back and knocked us out. These guys found us and brought us back here, and here we are."

Yuri stood in silence for a moment, memories flooding back to him. He remembered Wolfgang, Tara, Ted, and... the package. It suddenly came to him. The set of nuclear launch codes was now in the possession of whoever attacked them.

"We need to find them," Yuri quipped.

"Who?"

"Those assholes who attacked us, that's who. That attack was too coordinated to be a simple hit-and-run, so we have to assume they came for-"

"The launch codes." Yuri was interrupted by some behind him. Turning around to view this new person, Yuri was surprised by what he saw. He was a kid no older than 25, wearing a black duster similar to that of the Regulators. He stood at '6 "2 and wore a scruffy beard, his skin tanned by several years in the Wasteland.

"We know that whoever attacked you was after those codes, and we know that, with them, they are very dangerous. I am sorry to say that we did find one body at the site, a young man of about twenty three years."

'_Ted,' _Yuri thought, continuing his silence.

"Our radiomen are monitoring chatter as we speak, and we hope to find something that can lead us to their whereabouts."

"Alright, who the hell are you ? And where am I, exactly?" asked Yuri impatiently.

"Oh, I'm sorry, how stupid of me. My name is Quentin Jameson, I head a squad of elite Regulators known as the Judges. We handle covert ops, assassinations, etcetera. And as for your location, we're in a remote farmhouse about seven klicks south of Union City."

"Union City? I'm surprised you managed to get us this far without attracting attention. And how did you get to join the Regulators? You're pretty young to be heading up a squad by yourself."

"Ah, yes. You see, I was forced out of Vault 101 about five years ago. I-"

"So you're that kid Three Dog's yapped about for months on end. The Lone fucking Wanderer…He said you took on an entire army of 'Clavies by yourself?"

Quentin adjusted his duster. "Yes, that's me. And if you're referring to the incident at Adams Airforce Base, I had help from the Brotherhood of Steel, so it wasn't all me. Anyway, I was forced out here, looking for my father, who ended up dying in an accident with Project Purity. You've heard everything else on the radio, I assume?"

Yuri nodded.

"Well, after the Enclave was finished, I was contacted by the Regulators, asking if I'd head up an elite crew of men. The pay is good, so I couldn't resist. So, one year later, here I am."

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Sam spoke up."Quite the story," Sam said, breaking the silence, "No offense, Quentin, but we need to find our friends and the codes before something goes terribly wrong."

"None taken," Quentin responded, "Our radiomen are doing everything they can right now, but it may be a while before-"

"Captain Jameson, sir!" someone shouted from a room over, "We found something you might like to hear!"

The trio hurried into another poorly-lit room, housing five drowsy-looking men and their radio sets. A young man on the end of the table was beckoning them hurriedly."Over here, sir!" one of the younger radiomen motioned.

"What is it, Evans?" Have we found them yet?"

"Not exactly, sir, but I think we may know who planned this ambush, at least. We intercepted a satellite call between two men, one of whom identified the other as Commander Adrian Jabsco of Talon Company. Here, I'll play the message."

Private Evans replayed the call. Yuri recognized the voice of Jabsco, but not of the other man. This was a Talon job, he was sure of it. The call abruptly ended with the click of a phone."Are you certain this wasn't some sort of elaborate diversion?" questioned This sounds like Jabsco, but why would he place his call on a wide open frequency?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Maybe he thinks that nobody but the Brotherhood has the tech to intercept their communications."

"And they know the Brotherhood won't intervene unless they're directly threatened," added Yuri.

"Exactly. Captain, I can't say with 100 percent certainty that this isn't a trap, but if you're going to act on it you'd better do it soon. This call was placed not too long ago, and, as you heard, the other man gave an indication that he was returning to Fort Bannister."

"Yuri, Sam, what are your opinions?" asked Quentin.

"I agree with Private Evans. Intel doesn't get any more solid than this. I say we mobilize and do this quickly, lest we lose our chance at these villains."

"I'd have to agree as well, Captain Jameson," Sam chimed in.

Quentin pondered this for a minute. He knew he'd be further endangering the lives of his men if this turned out to be folly. However, Quentin also knew that at least two people were being held prisoner by Talon Company, who would do God-knows-what to them if they weren't rescued. Not to mention the launch codes, which they were probably going to sell to someone who didn't much care for the wellbeing of others.

"'Private Evans, tell the Judges to ready themselves and meet me in the den in thirty minutes. I'll explain everything there."

"Yes, sir!"

Private Evans obediently ran upstairs to tell the men of their new assignment.

After walking for nearly three days on and off, pushed to the point of exhaustion, Tara and Wolfgang neared the vicinity of Fort Bannister. Mangled bodies of men, women, and children lined the ditches adjacent to the road, likely to serve as intimidation to any would-be invaders.

"_My God," _Wolfgang thought "_I wish I would've died already."_ He'd lost track of time, and was disoriented to the point of collapse. His legs ached, his stomach cried for nourishment, and his mind was wondering just how the hell this had happened to him, of all people.

Tara had to choke back vomit as the stench of death reached her nostrils. She, too, was exhausted, and the bodies only added to the desperation she felt.

Nearing the gate, the duo witnessed a tall, brown haired man with a large scar on his face approach from the confines of the fort.

"Panther! Good to see you and your squad return so soon. Commander Jabsco will be pleased to hear of your safe return, brother," the man greeted.

"Glad to see you too, Brooks. Sorry, but I can't delay any further, I have to get this package to Commander Jabsco immediately," Panther responded, a hint of impatience escaping his voice.

"Of course, just let me get this gate open for you," Brooks responded, unlocking the gate.

As soon as it was open, Panther nearly sprinted towards the stairs leading to the CO's quarters.

"Panther, sir!" Nikolai called out "What do you want us to do with the prisoners?"

"Put them in a holding cell, and make sure nobody touches them until I get there!" Panther replied, still hurrying towards the door. Fumbling with the key, he managed to unlock it, and proceeded to hurry towards his commander's office.

Finally reaching it, Panther nearly collapsed from the combined exhaustion of the past three days.

Adrian Jabsco sat up, looking up from his papers to witness one of his greatest apprentices return.

"Catch your breath first; here, take some water," Jabsco said, handing Panther a glass of water. Gratefully drinking every last drop, Panther sat down.

"First things first; the package, please," Jabsco beckoned.

Reaching into his backpack, Panther pulled out a neat, brown folder and handed it to his commander. Carefully checking every page, Jabsco saw that everything was there.

"Good, everything is accounted for," Jabsco said, reaching towards his intercom and pressing down a button, "Attention all members of Operation: Shadowfall: The package has arrived and the mission will go on as planned. You are to report to your designated areas to receive orders and to be equipped. You are to be there within the hour or you will forfeit your spot on this mission. That is all."

"You never told me, sir, what exactly are we planning to do with these codes?" Panther questioned.

"Do not worry, Panther, all you need to know is that you did your job. And because of that, everything will work out in the end. Understood?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Good. Oh, and one more thing, Panther, the front guard informed me that you brought prisoners with you. Why is this?" Jabsco questioned.

"I...I thought they might of some use, bargaining chips, perhaps. Shall I kill them, sir?"

Jabsco pondered this for a moment. "Not yet. You did the right thing in taking them. Perhaps we could profit from them in the future," he replied.

"If there is nothing else you want from me, sir, I'd like to check on the prisoners," Panther nervously said.

"Alright, you're dismissed, Panther. Give your squad my regards, will you?"

Panther nodded, promptly exiting the C.O.'s office.

"Everything is going exactly as planned," said Jabsco to himself, oblivious to the entire squad of Regulators being deployed to Fort Bannister as he spoke.

And who better to deliver justice than Judges themselves.

**A/N: First off, I created Union City for reasons later to be revealed. It will play a role in the story's development, so I didn't just add it for the sake of adding it. It would be located right about where Shalebridge is, just west of Paradise Falls. It encompasses about 10,000 people, compared to about 15,000 in Megaton and 12,000 in Rivet City. Because, realistically, there wouldn't be just 80 people to a city. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, but if you didn't, feel free to tell me through a review, along with some constructive criticism. I'm always open to it.**


	5. Chapter 5

Tatiana nearly fell out of bed at the announcement over the intercom.

"Shit!" she groggily cursed.

Her dark brown hair was ruffled from yet another night of sleep within the confines of Fort Bannister. Her face was not that of a typical Talon mercenary, but bore natural beauty that was few and far in between in the Capital Wasteland. She stood at 5"7, her naturally tanned, Latina skin often concealed by leather armor. Being a woman, Tatiana was generally looked down upon by her male colleagues. However, using lies, seduction, and even extortion, she was among the most competent spies enlisted in Talon Company.

Glancing at the clock, Tatiana read that it was 6:43 A.M., hardly a decent hour to properly prepare for a mission. With a sigh, she walked towards her small, dimly-lit closet, perusing the rack until she found her lone set of leather armor. She took it out and put it on, securing the Kevlar bracers on her wrists. She chose to forgo the Kevlar chestplate, for it slowed her down on missions like hers where time was of the essence. She brushed her hair and put it into a bun, which offered the most convenience for one on a mission like hers. Tatiana then gathered all of the necessary food and provisions she had packed for what was sure to be an arduous journey.

"_Alright,"_ she took in a deep breath while attaching her knives and spare ammo, "_Deliver the package, get out, get paid. That's it._ _Nothing fancy this time."_

Tatiana had developed a reputation for making encounters with enemies more bloody than necessary, often endangering the success of her mission. She was convinced that this time, little, if any, blood needed to be shed. After all, it was just a delivery mission. Tatiana wasn't experienced enough to say she'd been through everything, but during her five-year tenure, she had seen far worse.

After holstering her pistol and slinging her silenced R91 assault rifle over her back, Tatiana nervously strutted out of her small room and into the hallways leading to the courtyard of Fort Bannister. It never ceased to amaze her how one simple announcement could transform her from a calm, collected emissary into just another nervous wasteland girl. Many of her comrades were also waking up, some of them moving hurriedly towards the courtyard. After all, the mission only required five individuals, five couriers to complete. But these five people had to be, she thought, quite experienced in the arts of stealth and deception.

Talon Company was famous for their brutal, cruel thugs, but many in the wasteland knew nothing of their vast, far-reaching spy ring. The operatives were dressed like normal wastelanders, some even living a normal life in a settlement for many years. In a wasteland of thousands of people, Talon Company's spies assimilated perfectly.

Already out of the confines of the underground base, Tatiana made her way to the ring of tents in the center of the courtyard. There she witnessed four other spies whom she did not recognize. More importantly, at the center of them was Supreme Commander Adrian Jabsco, flanked on either side by his surly bodyguards.

"Good to see you, Menendez," Jabsco quipped with his semi-polite yet authoritative voice.

"I won't waste too much of your time considering the long walk you all have ahead," Jabsco began, handing out thin, gray folders to each of the five operatives. "You're all receiving your briefing packets, detailing your missions and whom you are to report to."

Opening the packet, Tatiana saw one name at the top, the name of one of the largest settlements in the Capital Wasteland: Megaton. Below the name was what she assumed was briefing information, along with a few photographs of persons of interest.

"I regret that I had to delay your receiving these so long, but you must understand that this information had to be kept secret from as many as possible, even those within our own ranks," Jabsco paused, "Now, I wouldn't expect any of you to know exactly how to get to a major settlement simply using a compass, so I'm giving to each of you a special device. It's a called a GPS, or global positioning system. It's an old, prewar technology that uses a satellite to show ones current position. It's already pre-loaded with every major landmark and city in the wasteland. Oh, and please don't lose these. You haven't any idea how long it took for us to salvage these devices," Jabsco nodded to his bodyguards, who proceeded to hand out the small, rectangular devices.

Tatiana took the contraption, examining it carefully. It had rusted significantly throughout the years, but the screen still worked as well as the day it was made. As the screen lit up, she began to examine the map, finding the city of Megaton far to the southeast. She tapped the location, and instantly it mapped out an estimated length, forty kilometers, and an estimated time of arrival, 18 hours by walking. Sighing, Tatiana pocketed the device, mentally preparing herself for the journey ahead.

"I have faith in each and every one of you, that you will complete your missions and return home safely. Oh, and one more thing: Enclosed in your briefing packets there is a holotape. It requires the thumb print of the person you are to deliver it to in order to listen to it. Do not try to listen to this device, or otherwise tamper with it. We will be tracking all of you through sensors located within this tape. Now, if there are any questions, please direct them to me. Otherwise, goodbye, and good luck," Jabsco gave a swift salute to the agents, who promptly returned it.

Turning from the courtyard's center, Tatiana began to follow the mapped out instructions of the GPS.

"_Walking southeast for eighteen hours couldn't be that bad, could it?"_

Fatigue was beginning to set in on Yuri Chekov and his companions. Jameson had emptied the entire HQ, with all hands on deck for their most dangerous mission in many years. They had been walking west for over a day, the darkness of night giving them a much-needed respite from the relentless sunlight. Yuri could hear the howls of deathclaws in the distance, startling a few untempered Regulators. Yuri had debated with Quentin over bringing such inexperienced guns on an assignment of this magnitude. After all, 43 out of the one hundred man company ranged from 16 to 19 years old, hardly the depth of experience needed for a full assault of one of the most fortified facilities in the Capital Wasteland.

"_Like it or not, Chekov, we need all hands on deck for this mission," _Quentin had said, "_If that means bringing some greenhorns along for the ride, then so be it. I don't know if you've learned many virtues in your life as a mercenary, but one that I have learned is trust. And I trust every single one of these men with my life. Maybe you should do the same."_

Yuri shifted his aviators, glancing at the sunrise behind him. It was typical of a Wasteland morning, the chilly, opaque night giving way to the hot, steamy morning. He could feel the heat begin to seam through his layers of clothing and armor, which he was also accustomed to.

Yuri had a gut feeling that this assault would be all for naught. Of course he wanted to retrieve the launch codes, but Fort Bannister was renowned throughout the Wasteland for being all but impenetrable. He didn't doubt the heart or resolve of this motley band of lawmen, what he doubted was their training. If he had learned one thing as a mercenary, it was that not guns, but proper training in using them was paramount to survival in the Wastes. Yuri, after seeing the anxiety of some of the new Regulators, began to doubt their competence in battle.

Thankfully, the Regulators' target, Fort Bannister, was beginning to come into view. The edges of the massive camp were surrounded by four makeshift towers, which were mounted by machine guns and highly-trained sharpshooters.

"Quite the place, eh?" Sam whispered "I hear they have a moat filled with dead bodies surrounding the camp. Sadistic little fuckers, they are. More like-

"Organized raiders?" Yuri answered.

"Yeah. Kinda like that. Better training, better weaponry, and a place to call home. I guess that's all you really need to be happy out here, huh?"

Yuri was silent for a moment, pondering the words of Sam. "Not quite," Yuri quipped.

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ah, then I suppose you've bought into the whole 'true love' thing, haven't you? Bah, a load of bullshit is what it is. You find a woman, you fuck her, then what? You're supposed to share feelings or something? I mean, I guess there's people that find that 'special someone,' and they work out fine, but I'll believe it when I see my 'soulmate' with a halo over her head and whatnot, you dig?"

"Who knows," Yuri tiredly answered, "Maybe she was right in front of you the whole time."

The duo fell silent for a few minutes. The company was half a mile from the complex when Quentin raised his fist, alerting the company to halt.

"Alright," he began, "This is our staging area. Courtland, you and your squad are gonna use your rocket launchers to take out the northern tower, but do not do _anything _until the signal is given, understood?"

"Yessir, we'll get it done, sir." With that, the bearded, twenty-year veteran and his squad of forty men started to move out.

"McAtee and the demo squad will head up our entry into the facility, where we will advance into the inner fort. Sam Warrick and the recon crew will head up toward higher ground to get a clear shot on any hostiles within the facility. It's early morning, so if we execute this precisely as planned, we should be able to obtain the package and the prisoners with relative ease. Any questions?" Not a single hand was raised. "Good. Mac and Warrick, move your squads into position. The rest of you, on me. We, gentlemen, are the frontal assault." Though Quentin was one of the youngest men ever to lead the Judges, he spoke with a confident air that was uncommon among soldiers of his age.

Yuri began to feel uneasy, sensing that many of the young soldiers before him were about to meet their untimely demise."Jameson, do you realize we're outnumbered at least five to one? Every single man in the facility has undergone the most brutal training I've ever heard of, and has the weaponry to take out a good-sized army, much less-" Yuri was stopped short.

"What the hell would you have me do, Chekov? Leave the launch codes to Adrian fucking Jabsco so he can sell them to whomever he wishes? I-" Quentin realized that his entire squad could hear him. "No, this is the only way," Quentin whispered, "we could never slip a spy past those gates. A frontal assault is our only option."

Yuri sighed, consigning the fate of the operation to a young, but courageous Regulator. "Alright. Let's get this over with, then."

Quentin nodded, slapping Yuri on the shoulder. Captain McAtee and his squad gave a thumbs-up gesture, indicating that the explosives were primed. Seeing that everything was ready, Quentin nodded to Private Robertson, a young regulator tasked with manning the flare gun. Pulling the trigger, the young private shot the flare high into the morning sunlight.

"Bingo! There's our green light!" Lietenant Courtland yelled to his men, "Give 'em hell, boys!" In a matter of seconds, forty armed rockets whirred through the brisk morning air of the Capital Wasteland. They all hit their intended target, obliterating the fifty-foot, metal tower and all of its inhabitants.

The tower soon crumbled, leaving a plethora of metal and mangled bodies in its wake. "Alright, men, follow me to our secondary position before we get shot, move out!" Courtland called to his men.

Quentin saw that the tower was shattered. "Hold, Mac, the tower was a diversion. There's a reason they're on the other side of the fort, after all."

Moments after Quentin spoke, the alarm in Fort Bannister came to life, blaring for all to hear.

Jabsco nearly smashed his intercom button in frustration. "Attention, all combatant personnel! Report to your designated combat stations as per Defense Plan 3113. This is not a drill!" Jabsco yelled into the intercom, letting his frustration slip. Fort Bannister had not been breached in over forty years. And he wasn't about to let anyone do it again. Reaching for his satellite phone, Jabsco quickly switched the channel to communicate with his commander on ground level, Sargent William Brooks.

"Brooks, would you mind telling me what the fuck just happened? Because I don't like to start off my morning with a fucking explosion in my own goddamn fort!"

Brooks, already directing men to their stations, hastily responded to his irate superior. "Sir, we're doing everything we can right now, but we're heavily out manned since those detatchments left. A large number of rockets were fired at the northern tower and it was destroyed, along with the twenty or so men inside of it. We're attempting to organize squads, but-"

Brooks was interrupted by another, stronger explosion, this time coming from the south. From his position atop the eastern tower, he witnessed an entire company of black-clad soldiers pour through the newly-made crevice in the reinforced walls of Fort Bannister.

"S-Sir, we've got a large squad of hostiles in black pouring through the southern wall, lots of 'em, they're-they're firing off rounds-"

Brooks was interrupted by another explosion, this time at his immediate location. The eastern tower was obliterated, along with brooks and his men.

"Brooks? Brooks, come in damnit!" Jabsco came to the realization that the explosion had claimed the life of Sargent Brooks, along with a significant number of Talon Company operatives.

'_If these bastards can take out our defenses, they sure as hell can take out our men,' _Jabsco thought, '_That's it. I've gotta get out of here before it's too late. Let them have the damn fort, we've got bigger fish to fry.'_

Jabsco spun around and punched his code into the wall safe. He hastily grabbed the nuclear launch codes and nearly sprinted down the hallway and into his private elevator. Making sure everything was present, he punched the button that led him to his escape route. He always knew, in the back of his mind, that it he would have to use it some day. After all, he was one of the most influential men in the Capital Wasteland. If he were to meet his death, his company, his empire, would surely falter. And he would not let that happen.

Not today.

Sam's kill total was up to fifteen, or at least that was what he thought. He and his squad were making short work of any Talon operative that came within their sights. Combined with the ground forces and heavy weapons, Yuri was beginning to show some optimism about the success of the mission.

"Keep you fire slow and steady, fellas," Sam reminded his squad "It's a hell of a lot better to shoot precisely and hit than fire many rounds and miss."

On the ground, Quentin and his men were effectively decimating the enemy resistance. He had caught them by surprise, and the will of the defenders was beginning to crumble after a mere hour of firefight. Many were beginning to flee within the confines of the fort. Others were surrendering, laying down their arms and begging for mercy.

Quentin was just about to declare victory to the men, when, seemingly out of nowhere, he felt the end of a pistol pressed firmly against his head. His squad, though not all at once, greeted the assailant with gun barrels pointed at him.

"Shoot and he dies," Panther growled, clearly not intimidated by the thirty or so men ready to end his life at any moment.

Yuri watched all of this from behind a sandbag barricade, waiting for his opportunity to strike.

The Judges stood with guns aimed at the defiant Panther, who stood ready to die for Talon Company at any moment. "No? Then all of you will watch your leader die." Panther's finger nearly grazed the trigger before Yuri smashed the butt of his pistol into the base of Panther's neck, rendering him unconscious.

Regaining his composure, Quentin addressed the Judges. "All of you," Quentin directed "Sweep the rest of the base for any stragglers. The remaining forces locked themselves into the interior of the fort. For now, we let them be. Pruitt, Richardson, get our new friend," he gestured to the now-unconcious Panther, "out of here. Now move out, we've got work to do."

The remainder of the troops did so, bearing cheery optimism for the rest of the mission.

"Thanks for the save there, Chekov, I guess we're even now, huh?"

"Yeah. Even. Whatever you call it, Jameson. Right now I'm more concerned about this mission than your score settling."

"Why so concerned? We've got them in full retreat, they're practically waving the white flag and- "

"Don't you see? This assault was far too easy. Fort Bannister would normally have five times this many men in their normal garrison, plus sniper teams. Something isn't right here. And I intend to find whatever it is."

Quentin was a thrown off guard by this statement. After all, his company had just taken control of one of the largest facilities in the Capital Wasteland, not to mention throwing one of the most feared mercenary contractors on the East Coast into a state of disarray. Or at least that was what he thought.

"Well for now, Yuri, just enjoy the victory. One of the privates told me that they've found your friends in the detention facility up ahead of us. You should go see them, I'll take care of my would-be killer, here."

"Good. It's about damn time we found them. I'll catch up with you later, Jameson." Yuri was excited to finally see Wolfgang and Tara, but didn't show his elation in front of Quentin, who, in his mind, was too immature to hold onto feelings of victory and gain.

Yuri knew better than that.

**A/N: Holy balls in Heaven, this was a long chapter. I worked on it gradually over the course of about two weeks, so I had my work cut out for me. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and all that stuff, but please please please shoot me a review so I can iron out whatever mistakes I may be making. I, as a young writer, appreciate this more than you'll ever know. Thank you for reading, see you next chapter (which will surely make up for my lack of chapters recently).**


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